‘What a year of living with my mother has taught me’
The past 12 months have seen thousands of us move back home – Polly Dunbar among them. Ahead of Mother’s Day, she reflects on what she’s learned
i spent last night exactly the same way I’ve spent every night for almost a year now: curled up on the sofa next to my mum, watching TV with a bar of Dairy Milk between us. Since the first lockdown began, we’ve sat through and dissected everything from Normal People to It’s A Sin, via Married At First Sight Australia (so much to pick apart there). As the world around us transformed into a disaster movie, it’s a ritual I’ve found profoundly comforting.
Last April, I became a solo mother to a baby boy, Nat, right at the peak of the pandemic’s first wave. It was always the plan for my parents to spend the first few weeks of his life with us, but events stretched that plan in ways none of us expected. From the moment they arrived on my doorstep last March, bearing industrial quantities of toilet roll, we’ve lived together, first in my London flat, then in my childhood Yorkshire home.
Many new mums crave their own mother during those overwhelming first weeks after having a baby, and I was no different. My mum cooked, washed and cleaned for us. She helped feed Nat in the night, rocked him during witching hour and let him nap on her to give me a break when he wouldn’t be put down. As I struggled with crazy hormones and sleep deprivation beyond anything I’d imagined, she was a constant source of reassurance and love.
As one lockdown turned into two, then three, and Nat grew into a rampaging bundle of joyful energy, she continued to look after him alongside me, to his great benefit as well as mine. But I’ve realised that, even had he not been born, I couldn’t have pictured living through this strange, scary pandemic without her. At a time when all our other certainties have vanished, she’s one I’ve been able to rely on absolutely.
I’m not alone; many other women have spent at least one lockdown with their mother, whether for childcare reasons, to save money or simply for company. Textile designer and single mum Holly Picthall, 29, moved in with her mother Chris in December for all those reasons and more. ‘It’s definitely made my mum and me closer, and also means she has an amazing bond with her granddaughter, which is something she might have missed out on otherwise,’ she says. ‘We do squabble occasionally over my untidiness – I run a small silk scarf business, Wilful North, which means I often take over the living room with my sewing machine and fabrics. But she’s been a fantastic support to me during a tough time
MY MUM AND I HAVE BECOME CLOSER THAN EVER
for a single mum and this experience has really made me appreciate our relationship.’
Consultant Louisa, 38, moved back to Cheshire for the first lockdown and found herself relishing ‘the luxury of uninterrupted time with my mum that’s so different from a weekend visit or evening phone call. I had to make an effort not to fall back into behaving like a stroppy teenager, and my mum had to remember to treat me like an adult, too – realising my job wasn’t something I could just break from, like homework. But mostly, we had a lot of fun together.’
The impulse to return to our mothers during an unprecedentedly turbulent period is a natural one, says psychologist Emma Kenny. ‘It’s a position of safety in a world that doesn’t feel safe at the moment,’ she says. It can also offer a silver cloud to an experience we’re otherwise desperate to end. ‘Living with your mum as an adult means you can get to know them in a different way, and without the intensity of the time we’re living through, you wouldn’t usually have the chance to do it,’ she says.
My mum and I have become closer than ever over the past year, with remarkably few rows. We’ve had in-depth discussions about everything from Meghan and Harry’s Oprah interview to my hopes for Nat’s future. We laugh at the silliest things and, when one of us feels down, we remind each other that better times are coming, soon.
Spending time with my mum has taught me about the kind of mother I’d like to be. Watching her smilingly stack Nat’s plastic bricks for the 9,000th time and cheer when he knocks them down makes me want to be less impatient; to take more pleasure in the little moments. It’s also reminded me not to take her for granted – something that, once life’s gone back to normal and Nat and
I have returned home, I hope is one aspect of this insane year that continues.